


Withered Fate (Teen Wolf AU)

by Dimples2therescue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU Teen Wolf, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Bullying is sadly a must, Derek is territorial and wants in Stiles pants, Kanima Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski is Not Stiles Stilinski's Parent, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, Stiles has an abusive uncaring father, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, goofy punny Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimples2therescue/pseuds/Dimples2therescue
Summary: "Could you get any more beautiful? Geez this awkward silence gonna last four seconds but I’m gonna end it in one…” He whispered determinedly, hot spearmint breath waltzing with mine, lips barely brushing an enticing gap away.“Give it a rest already.”“But I love you!”An ersatz laugh didn’t dawdle in making itself heard. “Yeah…well, you can’t love what you were born to kill.”





	1. Unforseen

 

**__ **

**_Memories blur my eyes. Both my body and soul are withering away. I’m dying slowly from grief; my years had been shortened by this sadness. Sin has drained whatever was left of my strength; I am wasting away from within…_ **

**_Would he be able to save me? Only fate will tell._ **

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_**"Important encounters are planned by the souls long before the bodies see each other."** _

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****

**Unforeseen...?**  

**_Stiles POV_ **

_"Get here you fucking piece of trash!"_ my body reacts swiftly, ducking behind the chipped paint of the decaying oak wood frame door of our poor excuse of a living room. The empty bottle that was formerly filled with a cheaply amber alcoholic liquid crashes instantly in the place where my head was seconds ago. The hard impact of solid against dainty crystal ending in thousands of shattered sharp pieces flying everywhere and some even cutting the places where my skin is exposed.

My body can't dwell on the pain for long, as filthy scarred hands take possession of my small ankles giving a merciless pull. The hard rough skin with its black unhealthy nails and split fingertips repulses me to no end, but I bite my tongue and swallow the desperate urge to cry as I'm dragged to _his_ dominant anatomy.

Unendurable pain sends the little nerve workers of my brain into an uncontrollable frenzy of fireworks and I can't help screeching in raw protest at the feeling of my hair being pulled from its roots, setting alight my scalp. My face is abruptly turned towards the oak-washed table where he forces me to remain still.

 _"Well?"_ he prompts, his tone barely dancing on the fine edge of sanity. My unswerving stance sets him off immediately and he doesn't dawdle in pressing my head forwards almost all the way down to the stolen bright plate of china from that fancy store he forced me to shoplift not too long ago.

 

 _"When I ask a question I expect an answer you ignorant slut!_ Now don't make me repeat myself. What. The. Fuck. Is. That?"

 

 _"A p-plate?"_ I openly stutter mentally punching myself for displaying my escalating fears.

 

 ** _"DON'T GET SMART WITH ME SCUM, THAT'S A FUCKING EMPTY PLATE!_** Now the real question will be where's the food that's supposed to fill it, huh? **_WHERE!"_** He snaps his long-lost patience reflected on his course of action as he unabashedly bangs my head with the hardwood furniture scarcely away from me. Every single cell in my bloodstream flinched at the unmistakable sound of a painful crack, a hot all too familiar substance descends from my nostrils and tints my chapped whimpering lips. Floundering to ignore my throbbing visage I coerce my frozen tongue to form the words that will hopefully grant me a break from the harsh beating that will follow. Though my mind seems to be suddenly imprisoned as my tongue spills out the anger coursing through my veins.

 

_"It's not my fault you used the money I, personally, saved for groceries to buy the useless liquid you bath in every night!"_

_Wrong move._

**_ Definitely wrong move. _ **

****

A bright kaleidoscope of desultory images engulfs my field of vision the moment a blinding ardour settles on my left cheek, the impact behind the accurate hit sending my body soaring backwards only to end with a harsh thud against the splintered wood of the unlocked street-door.

 

My eyes fluttered for a second as I regained my troubled vision focusing on the salacious creepy smile the man who procreated me unabashedly bestows.

 

 _"What did you just say to me?"_ His chilled tone earning pronounced goosebumps on my arms and back. As usual, fear was slowly abducting all of my senses and taking over my body, leaving me pathetically breathless as I watch the predator in front of me closing in on his prey. My eyes wander frantically for anything to aid me on this occasion, but obviously, it was useless. Every nerve in my system grew taught and I found my nails burying themselves in my thighs as I press myself even further up against the wooden surface of the door, in vain attempts to generate more space amid _his_ nearing anatomy.

 

"I'm s-sorry," my freaking weakling-self wailed when I felt the pressure of his digits on the front of my black GAP sweatshirt. My pleas bounced off his ears as he effortlessly lifts me from the floor, his left hand fisting the material of my sweatshirt leaving me dangling in midair, showing part of my navel.

His dilated unfocused pupils bore into my frightened brown ones sending a bone-chilling promise of what's to come before he kicks open the door behind me and heedlessly disposes of my battered form.

 

 _"You'd better return with my goddamn food and money or else…"_ he flicks his tongue from side to side as he eyes my body with unbashful pent-up desire.

 

I swear I can taste the sour contents of my unruly stomach rising in my throat, but I easily downplay them as I turn on my heels and limp my way down the rest of the front steps.

 

Although as soon as I make my move a sudden, unexpected blow explodes on the back of my head, making me lose my footing and fall, a startled gasp rushing through my lips and earning me a full mud meal course with a side bonus of grass the moment I land flat on my face.

 

 ** _"And take your shite with you,"_** the man who's kin to me growls, slamming the oak-washed loose door on my back. A hawking fit takes over my body as I crawl my way towards the black ripped Jansport backpack responsible for my piteous fall.

 

The sigh of relief doesn't dawdle in making itself heard as I bask in the feeling of my newly acquired freedom, not really caring how short-lived it'll turn out to be. Unshed tears cloud my vision as my clumsy hands roam hastily over the contents of my backpack seeking the all too familiar tools that would abet me to accomplish my forced task. Instantly, my fingertips graze the cool surface of the faithful weapon I own before curling purposely around the wooden handle.

 

The blunt blade of the knife glistered under the strong rays projected by the waxing gibbous moon, giving the gruesome reflection of my unrecognizable countenance. The bridge of my nose looked unhealthily purple, the bone protruding and pointing slightly awkwardly to the left where my once normal flat cheek had duplicated in size, the visible swelling accompanied by tender hues of blue mixing with an unquestionable spreading purple. As if this wasn't enough, both my nostrils, lips and chin were coated in a thick dried puddle of blood that contrasted greatly against my ivory skin.

 

_Mind over matter, Stilinski. Mind over matter._

I repeated this over and over letting the feeling of the words engulf me as my own mantra while I ran one of my quaking hands through the length of my dishevelled hair.

 

Straightening myself from my uncomfortable crouched position I caught a glimpse of the vast intimidating timberland scarcely away from my stationary stance. Though my feet didn't allow my gaze to linger for long as they ended up deciding for me, moving briskly and determined into the depths of the unknown.

 

Time passed carelessly by as my feet moved purposely through the dense unyielding vegetation. An eerily silence covered my tracks with the exception of the occasional hoot of the exorcist owl, master of the shadows.

 

Heartened by the dim halo of light projected by the growing waxing moon I kept on moving, the unmistakable presence of the weapon I shamefully carried in my sweatshirt pocket weighing down my steps and getting heavier by every pulsating second. The unquestionable feeling of guilt only got stronger the moment I noticed a rusty sign not too far ahead of my position. It clearly pinpointed in white fading extra-thick letters the town's location, which seemed to be only five minutes shy from my needful reach.

 

I swallowed the knot that cosily lounged in my throat and compelled my suddenly rooted feet to continue with their leisurely pace since my still aching muscles couldn't afford to speed up their move, not when they were supporting a considerable amount of black and blue discoloured marks.

 

A thoughtful, yet troubled sigh rushed through my rough lips. After all, the art of stealing was something I would never get myself accustomed to. I loathed it with every fiber of my being, but much to my chagrin, _it was a must…_ _it was a must if I wished to survive._ **_Simple as that._**

 

My mind was pondering which store would be more likely to recover from a sudden assault when my left foot got trapped in something, my eyes had naturally overlooked, and I pitched forwards, tumbling down mercilessly to the uninviting ground which was coated in a thin layer of dew.

 

 _"Smashing."_ I mumbled sardonically as my eyes rested on the plastic material that cashed my fall. _Wait…_ is that… is that _a hose?_

 

My interest was abruptly peaked by the weird greenish tube that spread before my eyes. Forgetting about my duties, I began to follow the long-abandoned hose towards its place of origin, slightly swirling to the left and moving as fast as my poor exhausted feet would carry me.

 

The large flexible tube seemed to stretch on forever until I finally found its ending tail glued to an outdoor spigot in the middle of what looked like a rose-clad garden. I couldn't help staring with dreamy eyes at the magically growing garden that gleamed under the crescent moonlight. Roses, tulips, orchids and even some exotic flowers I couldn't recognize adorned this part of the forest I had never witnessed, the colours mingling perfectly in harmony and inviting strangers with their heavenly sweet aroma. My fingertips skimmed the petals of a blue rose as I basked in its unique scent. Though the hex I seemed to have succumbed under crashed the moment my eyes rested on the remains of what appeared to be an extremely damaged three-story house. I couldn’t help but draw nearer to the still standing structure.

 

Chunks of the mansard roof had caved in leaving part of the upper floor level on full display, greedy vines had made their way into wooden oak windows framing the glasses with their withering leaves, the paint from the bricks was chipping away and peeling in thick layers and the boards conforming the front porch were rotten with mold discoloration some even bulging upwards with gruesome cracks marring the wood.

 

_My hand moved unconsciously to the blunt knife in my pocket as my brain cunningly plotted my next move._

Detaching the hose from the spigot, I didn't dawdle in twisting it open and washing my numb face from any traces of gruesome blood. My sweatshirt was an already lost cause, but thankfully its dark colour and the fact that it was quite late would work to my advantage in screening the carmine substances that shamefully stained it.

 

Once the cleansing ritual was completed I strolled forwards, shortening the distance between the intimidatingly haunting structure and my petite lonesome figure, searching for any possible way in. A tiny smile forming on my visage when I noticed one of the walk-in windows slightly ajar. _Funny how one's mistake can be other's golden opportunity._

Moving gingerly yet purposely, I slid through the enticing opening, feet silently gracing the wooden floor only to proceed inchmeal as they parsimoniously padded their way along the dimly lit area.

 

It was just so dark I couldn't even tell my hands apart from my frowning countenance. Finally deciding to put an end to my own induced misery, I fished for the obsolete device that rested comfortably in my cutoffs pocket. Although the sloppy action went right to hell the moment my shin run into the edge of a very sharp square table. The throbbing that came with the motion assaulted my nerve terminations in a turmoil of blinding pain that ended with the high pitch expression of my startled vocal chords. The scream was raw and powerful enough to reverberate off the walls and into the spreading darkness as I pettily hopped in my left foot while nursing my injured joint, fat tears pricking at the corners of my eyes begging to be shed of their confines.

 

_Not even a second later the lights were switched on._

**_ Busted. _ **

**__ **

_"Well…well… well, if it isn't a little scoundrel…"_ A husky richer voice claimed behind my back, his anise wood pine smell labelling my personal space as his own turf and earning unabashed goosebumps on my exposed flesh. The grip on my knee went lax before dropping altogether.

 

My teeth gnawed the inside of my cheek, lungs enclosing and skipping a breath as I felt my fingers stretching on their own accord to grab a hold of the small lamp atop the bedside table which had priorly bullied me, digits curling around the wooden handle with fixated purpose.

 

_It all elapsed in fast motion from there._

A sturdy anatomy collided with my back, a resilient arm rapidly looped around my waist holding me impossibly close and thus, preventing my escape. Driven by my claustrophobic fears I floundered in his hold for mere seconds before I ended up accidentally kicking him backwards in that special spot that decided his gender and leaving him breathless to endure the low blow.

 

Unmet with my actions, I didn’t dawdle in swinging the ancient expensive looking lamp forwards against his thick skull once I swivelled to face him, eliciting a muffled string of censored words from his lips as he blindingly tumbled backwards with me hanging on his anatomy like an infuriated koala.

 

The dick never-ending thrashing motions earned another whack rough blow on his forehead, where now resided a rosy print with the lamp’s shape on it. The lamp was suddenly knocked off my grasp and I rapidly replaced it with the blade I was carrying in my hoodie’s pocket.

My body shifted accordingly, straddling his toned hips as I easily played deaf to his still ongoing grunts. Hunching forwards, I didn't loiter in pressing the blunt blade on my left hand to his throat, just above his thick pulsating jugular. Hoping that the pressure would scare him enough to drag the necessary words out, and also praying he wouldn't notice the rusty useless edge of the blade, which would never be able to cut through the epidermal tissue unless it was plunged with extreme force, something I clearly didn't possess.

 

 _Not that it matters._ I would never purposely carry a dangerous weapon with me, not for a long shot. Besides, I'd never harm anyone during my paltry existence and I wasn't planning on changing it that night. _Terrorizing was a different matter, though._

 

 ** _"Where's the money?"_** I demanded cutting straight to the chase as I helped myself to a handful of his tousled ebony hair before pulling, with just the necessary amount of force to coerce him to confront me.

Irises darker than the night itself secretly rendezvoused mocha brown ones for their very first time, making everything spiralled out of control.

 

My unfocused mind kept on replaying slow-motion close-ups of this stranger's eyes while my eyes wander, as if they had a mind of their own, over his wondrously hard sculpted features, leaving it all under the scrutiny of my eager gaze.

 

Sharp well-defined jaw with rosy full lips that begged to be felt, olive sun-kissed skin, ebony hair messily arranged in an after sex fashion, and imposing black coloured eyes, which plunged straight into your soul. And, let's not even mention the sturdy physique he sported ** _. Damn… is he for real?_**

****

A strong tidal wave of unidentified emotions took over my befuddled body and I felt the hand holding the knife doubting its strength as it wavered.

 

 _"So pretty."_ The partially naked man worded his thoughts flat-out whilst skimming the pad of his finger through the heated skin of my unharmed cheek. His shocking yet sincere words, sending a dance of uncontrollable shivers down my spine as my senses basked in what I observed; _faithfulness, compromise, **love…**_

Shaking my head off the uneasy turmoil of emotions coursing my bloodstream and clouding my senses, I forced my undecided hand to increase the pressure on his throat.

 

 _"I ASKED WHERE'S THE MO…"_ but my unheeded threats were easily downplayed the moment he straightened his posture, taking me completely off guard as he greedily crashed his full alluring lips to my chapped ones.     

 


	2. Tormented souls stick together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t meet you by accident. You were meant to cross my path.”

**__ **

**_Stiles_ **

The sharp sound of slapping skin didn't dawdle in making itself heard as it reverberated in the room, ending whatever indiscreet action that had previously taken course.

 

Muted by the turn of events I crawled away from the guy who had deprived me of my sacred first kiss. A shaking hand rose to my still tingling lips as if trying to get rid of the taste that would be forever imprinted on them.

 

Unfazed by the hit my hand had painfully bestowed, the half-naked stranger moved forwards, imprisoning my numb body against a washed out wall. I could feel my heart beating on top of my rib cage just about to burst from its confines as I waited for the physical touch that this pervert would surely unleash. Surprisingly, it never came.

 

Despite our close proximity he didn't lay a finger on me, he just stood there giving me a full detailed scan with those mesmerizing toffee black orbs of his, which seemed to have suddenly adopted a much darker spine-chilling shade, as his gaze determinately lingered on my swollen cheek, busted lip and any other visible mark tinted in hues of black and purple, where the inner cells of the epidermis had clearly broken and piled into the abused tissue.

 

A strong guttural growl soon followed the action.

"Who did this to you?" He forwardly asked as he stretched his hand to my bruised cheek, only to drop it afterwards at the sudden whimper yielded by my lips. I thereupon let my eyes close in plain discomfort, heavily berating my stupid self for being so fucking careless. Acutely aware that if it hadn't been for my persuading curiosity, I'd have never found myself tangled in this compromising mess.

 

"Here." Something cold and slightly heavy was placed in my hands all of a sudden. Opening my eyes, I chanced upon a chubby piggy-bank.

 

My already glassy orbs widened at his uncalled for gesture, and I swallowed the knot which had taken a comfortable liking to my throat. I repeated the action two more times and even moistured my dried lips, but the stubborn words still refuse to form.

 

His toffee black eyes found mine once more in a resolute plea before he granted me a hesitant, barely there, smile.

 

"I know it's not much, but I'll be earning more by the end of the week since my payment's coming up. I work at Beacon’s Hill Animal Clinic, ever heard of it? Alan Deaton ‘s my, and Scott’s, mentor, lacks most of his marbles as a veterinarian but fairly shrewd on his working field just don’t bring up anything regarding his chronic baldness hell knows chap can’t swallow a joke. Anyway, just think of it as my way of saying 'sorry'." His eyebrows joined in a deep frown when he noticed the languid posture of my arms around his offering. A profound sigh escaping his perfectly shaped lips as he caressed the spreading wrinkles on his temple.

 

"Just take it… _please_ ," He begged, pushing the money-box further into my embrace without touching me.

I only replied with a slight nod as I let my arm curled possessively around the dumpy piggy-bank before padding my way to the still unlatched window. Although my steps halted on their own accord when I was about to sneak outside. Without turning my head, I muster to pluck up the necessary courage to form the correct words to address him.

 

"Thanks."

 

 ** _"WAIT!"_** he bellowed taking possession of my unoccupied hand and giving it a hearten-squeeze. "At least, tell me your name."

 

A wistful sigh rushed through my lips as I ponder over his words. What harm could it bring? Ultimately, it was highly unlikely that our paths would cross for a second time. Bearing this in mind, I turn to face the beautifully flawless man behind me.

 

"S-Stiles… My name's Stiles."

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My hands moved swiftly to my pull up the hoodie of my shabby red GAP sweatshirt, keeping my eyes glued to the grungy floor as I made my way through the mass of students that nurtures BHHS, commonly known as Beacon Hills High School. Keeping myself attached to the rows of chipped rusty lockers I began the endless search of room 314, where much to my displeasure I will spend the next two hours listening to an old fart prattle about the importance of numbers and such.

 _Man, I really do hate math._ Plus, I swear my brain is just like the Bermuda triangle. Once information goes in 'good luck' in finding it back. _Unless you're Liam Neeson then my future as a mathematician is, well, how would I put it? **F*cked…**_

Not that I would have the chance of having a bright future. In the chaotic rhythm my life was moving I should just be thankful for waking up to breathe another day. A wishful sigh parted my lips as I hunched over in my position and cocooned myself with my wobbly arms, trying as hard as possible to pass unnoticed by the watchful eyes of the bystanders. My visage throbbed relentlessly under the layers and layers of low-priced makeup caked haphazardly on the abused epidermis-tissue, giving my unpresentable face a more approachable aesthetical appearance. _To say 'I hate my life' would be the understatement of the year._

My lanky figure has an ungainly walk as it strides along the infinite corridor. A girl with a caramel dark coloured sweater bumps past my shoulder and turns to rest her curious eyes on me, ready to form an apology, I guess, though the last one is never voiced. Not when her eyes noticed I am no other human being than the pitiful emo outcast who doesn't spare a word. The female's visage shifts at the obvious realization, pausing a nanosecond to bestow a nasty much too noticeable frown before turning on her heels and picking up her pace without granting me a second thought.

Despite her abrupt departure, my eyes couldn't unglue from her vanishing form, the exotic colour of the sweater she was swimming under triggering something inside me. A pair of toffee-black eyes suddenly materialized in my field of vision, leaving me to blink several times to make sure it's just a figment of my biased imagination and not the breathing man himself, standing ahead of me.

Memories of our bitter yet sweet encounter ransacked my brain and my vision loses focus once more as I tried to stabilize my weakling form by laying half of my weight against the metallic ancient structure on my right.

_Ridiculous._

**_Seriously though, how is it even possible that you've grown an overly insane infatuation for someone you know absolutely nothing about?_ **

_Besides, even if by some miraculous force you get the uncanny chance to run across him again, there's no telling if he would reciprocate these illogical emotions which seemed to have comfortably lodged in your heart._   ** _Unreachable and way out of your league.  _** _The sooner you accept this, the quicker you'll learn to deal with it and move on, do not dawdle in unclaimable territory, the painful path that it conveys it's not worth the hassle._

_Fine, I get it. Leave me be now._

What commenced as just an annoying itching feeling at the back of my mind turns cumbersomely unbearable in an abrupt matter of mere seconds. The weightless printed paper of available jobs hidden inside an old book of Medieval Bestiary isn't as light as it used to be, dragging me down with a constant reminder of what I must accomplish.

The only way of calming the racing heart that's caving in on itself would be to repay the debt I own this personification of Greek God with strong features and sharp jaw that I crave to idolize with my lips.

_Snap out of it already! For all you know the chap could be a straight fellow without an ounce of gay in his system and guess what? That measly kiss meant nothing to him. I'm positive he was only testing his boundaries and using you as a guinea pig for his own greedy purposes. You're such a moron for not realizing this sooner, could have saved yourself the entire ordeal._

I'm so fed up with my conscience that I ended up venting again the locker on my left, kicking the hard rusty structure and hurting myself properly during the procedure. A muffled groan rushed through my lips and I rest my forehead against one of the numberless thingies as I let the pulsing discomfort on my foot wash over me and distract me from the conflicting thoughts assaulting my unsettled mind. Nevertheless, my living struggle is cut short the moment I hear a cry of entreat not too far from my current stationary stance.

The high pitch of the whine could only belong to a female individual and my suspicions are proven correct when my eyes eventually land on a petite ivory skinned girl sporting a vintage white dress with a black leather jacket on top, lean bare legs ending in a pair of military maroon combat boots, laces undone. Her arms are stretched painfully above her head and she keeps her anatomy on her tip toes as she gives useless leaps trying to recover a silver chained necklace that some jerk stole from her.

My blood boils at the sight and my feet carry me onwards before my mind could even catch up to the act.

 _"Come on dwarfy, is that the highest you can reach?"_ The jackass mocks as he flicks her freckled nose and flaunts the silver pendant through her vision before hauling it once more at a very unsuitable height for the poor girl to grab. As if this unfair treatment wasn't enough, the dick was accompanied by another tormentor who's holding her satchel captive between his legs.

My approaching angle seems to work perfectly to my advantage as I neared the aggressor by his back and thus earning an easily unguarded angle to seize the main object of the bullying.

My fingers curled rapidly around the chain of the pendant and I retrieve the object without much of a struggle, leaving the offender slightly flabbergasted at the sudden disruption. Contouring his anatomy I turned toward the girl who's cautiously observing my every move now, my figure hunches to reach her level and gingerly, I took possession of her dainty hand to place the retrieved object in her palm, a small smile forming on my visage the moment my eyes notice she isn't furtherly harmed.

"Are you a' right?" My concerns must be quenched, so I ended up asking nonetheless.

Though I never get to hear her response as a sudden pressure on my back pushes me against a row of lockers, a much too stronger body mass pinning my own at an awkward angle. My head turns abruptly to the right to peek at the raging face of the jerk who was previously bullying the unprotected girl.

"Who the fuck gave you the right to mess up with my business, huh?" Muscly breathes in my face, trying and yet failing to intimidate me. I have definitely seen and experience worse, this insignificant flea is nothing compared to what usually awaits me at _home._

"Please. You're such a coward cliché. You need to pick on individuals half your size to feel good about yourself? That's low, even for a prick like yourself."

The action that follows doesn't take me completely off guard since I was acutely aware of the outcome I would have to endure for such taunting words. My face connects with a harsh thud against the locker I'm pinned against, the rough surface of the vents cutting through the epidermis of my cheek leaving a throbbing discomfort, where now a gruesome mess of make-up and blood is blending.

I'm carelessly swirled in a swift motion and my eyes rest for a nanosecond on the girl who's now thrashing under the jackass's friend hold, in vain attempts to aid me. A small, mollifying smile is sent her way before a sucker punch closes in on my already bruised countenance.

 ** _"NO! STOP IT, PLEASE!"_** the pleading words of the brunette are deeply ignored as another solid hit pummels my face. The blow left me dizzy and would have hurt so much more if I wasn't so desensitized to pain by now.

Another row of hits soon precede these ones, but with much brute force and pent-up anger. My body is fluctuating between the blissful state of consciousness and nothingness when the sharp sound of a bell disturbs the dense atmosphere, a clear reminder of the begging of classes.

My body sags in a heap onto the uninviting floor as soon as its assaults ceased. A pregnant pause descends upon us before the collar of my hoodie is pulled upwards and my blurry vision is forced to focus on my aggressor.

"Saved by the bell Slutlinski. _Don't think you'll get this lucky next time_ ," And with a final shove and nod of his head both him and his faithful minion disappear from view, hurriedly mingling with the ongoing throng of students oblivious of our violent exchange.

In the blink of an eye, the petite girl who reminded me of a vintage snowwhite doll crouches by my stance, her hands proving softly my face as a deep frown mars her cute features.

"Are you okay? I'm really sorry, you shouldn't have intervened." A tear escapes the confines of her mocha irises and my hand moves automatically to sweep it away.

"Don't say that. M' okay, seriously, I've had worse. Besides, I couldn't just stay there and do nothing."

"Thank you," she smiles gratefully at me as she carefully pulls a violet dainty-knitted handkerchief from her left maroon combat boot to swipe the caked blood from my left cheek, eliciting a very noticeable hiss from my chapped lips.

"Sorry."

"'S okay."

"So, you're looking for a job?" The confusion reflecting on my expression is soon placated by a small lopsided grin that is gifted my way before she offers me the torn page of the newspaper I thought I had meticulously saved under my Medieval Bestiary book.

"You kinda dropped this when, ugh, well… _you know,"_ She lets out a troubled sigh before she carries on, "I can help yah out if you'll let me? You see my grandda’ is handicapped and bit of a trip hazard, dad’s been on the look out for someone who’s willing to care for him cuppa hours during the day make sure he doesn’t try getting off his wheelchair and cause havoc, someone willing to keep up to his pretty much obstinate personality. We’re not loaded but I can guarantee dad will grant you a good salary for your services."

I'm really pondering her offer, not that there's much to contemplate about such a kind proposal. _I need a job, period._

"I’m Allison, by the way, Allison Argent," she introduces herself cutting me of my slight trance. I return her encouraging smile and stretch my hand to shake hers.

"Well Allison Argent, my name is Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. _So, when can we arrange an interview here love?"_

 

 


End file.
